


God Only Knows

by biremus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dumbledore is a villain, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Like 7 years at least ahaha, Multi, Slow Burn, remus raises harry's twin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:13:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29609235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biremus/pseuds/biremus
Summary: Two good people died at Godric's Hollow on October 31st, 1981. Two were left alive.The Potter twins were separated on Dumbledore's orders - forbidden from knowing about each other "to keep them safe". Harry - The Chosen One, The Boy Who Lived - was taken to his aunt. Katherine - unscathed and unaware - was pushed into the hands of a broken man.Ten years later, they are forced into meeting. He is a Gryffindor, she a Slytherin; they are not supposed to be friends, but they are drawn together.AU where Harry has a twin sister, raised by Remus and sorted into Slytherin. Spanning 1991-2000.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Kudos: 11





	1. First Year: Albus Dumbledore

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic idea in my notebook for years now, but you will probably notice immediately that it was very much inspired by All The Young Dudes by MsKingBean89. Reading ATYD was what finally pushed me to actually getting this idea out of my brain, so you can blame them entirely. 
> 
> I anticipate this will be a pretty long fic - I can't promise the updates will be as regular as they are on ATOH! This is something I'm just doing to finally get the idea out, as opposed to my usual AUs which I try to write to a proper schedule. Any and all ships will appear a few 'years' into the fic (after POA), and there are a couple of minor ones I haven't tagged but will do when they eventually appear! Major character death tag for character deaths canon in the series.
> 
> I do not support JKR or her bigotry. To me, writing HP fic is a celebration of the fanworks I enjoyed and consumed growing up and not a celebration of the creations of a racist transphobe.
> 
> Anyways, stan MsKingBean89.

Friday 14th June, 1991 

She was running; worn-out patent leather shoes slapping on the cold, grey concrete of the playground. He was chasing her – he was _it_ after all – and she was the last one left to catch. She risked a glance over her shoulder, seeing him gaining on her as she sprinted, but it was a bad choice. She tripped up over her own laces and went hurtling towards the ground, knees and palms scraping, her forehead smacking hard against the cold ground, glasses mashing into her nose. 

Footsteps caught up with Kat Lupin as she lay on the floor, trying very hard not to cry. She had grazed her knee – she could feel the cut tingling – and her palms were stinging, but she didn’t trust herself to move. Her head was throbbing where she had hit the ground. But still, she couldn’t show weakness. 

A hand tapped her on the back. “Tag! You’re it.” Michael had caught her. 

That was it. She started to cry. 

“Now, now, what’s all this?” Kat heard the voice of Mrs Brown, their class teacher, as she approached, her heels clicking on the ground. Only then did Kat try to move, pushing herself up and wiping away the tears from her eyes in an attempt to look tough. She was a year 6, she couldn’t just go around crying every time she fell over. She was grown up now. 

“She fell over!” Michael said quickly, pointing to Kat accusingly. She scowled at him. It may have been true, but she still didn’t like his attitude. Still, she supposed, Michael had siblings and was probably used to being blamed for everything. 

“It’s true, I did.” Kat said, accepting Mrs Brown’s hand to help pull herself up. She sniffed loudly and brushed her still-bleeding hands on her trousers in an effort to make it look like less of a problem than it was. 

Mrs Brown tutted, looking down at Kat’s blood on her hand with an air of pity in her voice. “Come on, dear, we’ll get you to the nurse and patch you up.” 

Kat groaned – she would really rather not. The school nurse would take one look at her and prescribe a cold paper towel and maybe, if things were really bad, a plaster for her knee. Once she got home her dad could fix her up fine in a heartbeat. But by this point she knew better than to argue. She gave Michael a look as she walked past him and tapped him on the shoulder as she and Mrs Brown walked away. 

“You’re it.” 

The nurse’ office was cold and clinical. There was a bed made of plasticky fabric with a paper cover at one end of the room, and a scratchy green chair at the other. A large locked cabinet held all manner of first aid equipment that Kat had never seen anyone at the school use before, and a brightly-coloured poster on the wall showed all the healthy food groups in a big rainbow triangle. Kat hopped up onto the bed and sat, her hands laying palm-up in her lap, swinging her legs backwards and forwards absently. 

The school didn’t have a dedicated nurse, but one of the teaching assistants had been trained in first aid. She followed Mrs Brown into the room and tutted loudly when she saw Kat, placing her hands on her hips and tilting her head to one side. 

“Miss Lupin, back again?” 

Kat gave a flat-mouthed smile. It wasn’t as if she was _trying_ to get injured so often. She didn’t even _know_ how she’s ended up on top of the bins that one time. 

“Well, what’s the damage today?” The nurse asked, approaching Kat as Mrs Brown went back to the playground. Kat held her hands up for her to see. 

“Fell over.” Kat shrugged. “Bumped my head too.” 

The nurse tutted again, taking Kat’s hand and looking at the scrapes. There wasn’t too much blood, but she might put a bandage on it. Everyone back in class would think that was cool. 

But then they’d ask why her hands were fine the next day. She frowned. 

“I’m fine. I’ll just wash them and go back outside.” 

The nurse fixed Kat with a disapproving look. “Katherine, we need to properly clean them with antiseptic or they could get infected.” She dropped Kat’s hand and turned back to the cabinet, choosing a key from her bright green lanyard and unlocking the doors. She pulled out a bottle of bright orange antiseptic and Kat cringed. That stuff always stung so badly. 

The nurse approached again, bottle in one hand and cotton balls in the other, and set about cleaning the cuts on Kat’s hands. Kat sucked in a breath as the antiseptic burned, but she had to admit that the cuts did look less angry after she was done. The nurse indicated to the rip in Kat’s trousers and Kat obliged, rolling up the leg so that the nurse could clean the scrape on her knee. Kat saw the nurse’s eyes flicker down to the scars up the side of her leg very briefly, before she went back to cleaning the wound. People always asked. The nurse had asked in the past. Kat always gave the same, well-rehearsed answer. 

They had adopted a dog when she was little but it had attacked her. They had had to take it back to the shelter. 

It wasn’t as if she could go around telling people her dad was a werewolf. 

“There, all done. I don’t think you’ll need plasters on your hands but do come back to me if you think they need covering up.” The nurse gave Kat a cheery smile as she placed a big, square plaster over her knee. It was a pale peach colour which stood out starkly against the soft brown of her skin, but at least it would stop the blood from soaking into her trousers. They were the only ones she had. 

“Thank you, Miss Rye.” Kat gave another smile and jumped down from the bed, unsteady on her grazed knee, and bent down to roll down her trouser leg. 

The school bell rang just as she was standing back up. She had missed the end of break! 

Kat sighed loudly before heading out of the nurse’s office and through the reception area, back to her classroom – the first one on the right. Now she was a year 6 she didn’t have to walk all the way down the corridor and Kat thought that that brought with it a kind of dignity and privilege that she hadn’t had in any other year at primary school. It was fun, being one of the oldest kids in school. She wasn’t looking forward to being back at the bottom of the food chain next year. 

On Friday afternoons they learned about their history topic – World War Two – and they all had to pretend to be evacuees and write a diary entry about living away from their families. In English they were looking at similes and metaphors, so Kat made sure she included one of each, as well as all the different sentence types they had looked at last term. Mrs Brown had been very impressed, and had read her diary out for everyone to listen to. Kat had felt very proud of herself. 

The last hour of every Friday was Reward Time, and Kat and Michael spent their time playing battleships, though there were quite a few pieces missing. Michael didn’t seem to have any kind of strategy, but this worked in Kat’s favour, and she won three times in a row. All in all, the afternoon was uneventful, save the tap turning itself on at full blast when Rhiann and Adil’s Jenga tower collapsed, but in fairness it _had_ made Kat jump. She really needed to try and keep that stuff under control if she wanted to carry on going to school with Muggles. 

The final bell went at quarter past three and the class all flooded into the cloakroom, changing out of their indoor school pumps and back into their trainers. Kat’s were old – hand me downs from her friend Neville – and had been repaired several times, as well as charmed to be bigger. They couldn’t afford to get new ones. 

She went back to sit at her desk and wait for her name to be called, knowing that her dad would be one of the last parents to show up because he liked to avoid the crowds. She opened up her book bag just once more to check she had everything. Homework file? Check. Reading book? Check. Letter for her dad? Check. She didn’t know what it was about, that was boring adult stuff, but she had added it to her checklist anyway. Mrs Brown had said it was important that he read it. 

“Katherine, love, your dad’s here.” The teacher called from the cloakroom, where she was standing in the doorway. Kat quickly pressed the Velcro seal of her book bag closed and slid it off the table, rushing out to the door and into her father’s arms. 

“Did you have a good day?” He looked weird – distracted? Troubled in some way or another. Kat tried not to let him know that she had noticed, so put on a smile and nodded as she pulled away from him. 

“Yeah, great!” She held out her palms to show him. “I fell over.” 

He quirked an eyebrow, “Impressive.” 

“She bumped her head, too, you might want to keep an eye on her.” Mrs Brown said, concerned. Kat tutted loudly. 

“I’m _fine_. Let’s go.” She tugged on the sleeve of her dad’s jacket impatiently as she shot a smile back to her teacher. “Have a good weekend, miss!” 

Her dad seemed concerned, but Kat just marched off, expecting him to follow. Of course, he did, waving politely to Mrs Brown before hurrying after his daughter. They reached their flat in less than ten minutes. It was small and shabby, and they couldn’t always pay the electricity bill on time, but it was their home. 

Something was off, however, that afternoon. 

A month previously, a letter had arrived at their flat with the address ‘ _Katherine Mary Lupin, The Sofa-bed’_ that had detailed an invitation for Kat to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Remus had said that she was in no way obligated to attend the school if she didn’t want to – she could live out her life in the Muggle world and he could teach her any magic that she _needed_ if she really wanted to. Of course, she had decided that was the best. Why would she want to leave behind all her friends, her whole life? Everything she knew would be gone. Even when her dad had told her that his years at Hogwarts had been the best time of his life, Kat knew that she would not be happy there. They didn’t even study music, when was she supposed to do her piano lessons? 

So, they had written back to the headteacher, Albus Dumbledore, and politely declined his invitation, as the letter had stated was entirely within their right. She already had a place lined up at the local secondary school with Michael and Rhiann and Adil and the others. They were going to send her a uniform in the post and everything. 

That afternoon, however, all of these plans were shattered. 

“Ah, Miss Lupin, I presume?” There was a man sat on the sofa when they got home. He looked old, and had a long silver beard and wore half-moon glasses. His clothes were ridiculous, he was wearing what looked like a cape made of maroon velvet, embroidered with stars and tiny crescent moons, over a violet velvet suit. Kat stopped in the doorway and stared. 

When she did not answer him, Remus cleared his throat and spoke, his voice uncertain. 

“Professor Dumbledore, I know we already discussed this but I just think -” He was cut off with a simple hand up from the old man, whose expression was unreadable. 

When he spoke, his voice was calm and measured, almost a whisper. “As you say, Remus, we have already discussed this. It will be much safer for Katherine if she accompanies her peers to Hogwarts this September.” He tilted his head a little, looking over his glasses at Remus. “You _do_ want her to be safe, don’t you?” 

“Well, yeah, of course.” Remus seemed rather taken-aback. His mouth hung open as if he was trying to speak but couldn’t muster up the courage or the words to do so. Kat did not blame him; she, too, was too afraid to speak to this man. He looked so alien – magical among their mundane décor. 

“It is, of course, rude for us to discuss you as if you are not in the room, Miss Lupin.” Dumbledore rounded his stern gaze on Kat now, and she shrunk into the doorframe, still afraid to fully enter the flat. “It would be a lot better for us to discuss this matter with the door _closed_. The old defences are still in place, I presume?” He looked to Remus with his last words, and Remus nodded wordlessly. He looked angry. 

Kat took the hint, following Dumbledore’s orders and entering the flat, closing the door behind her. She stayed by it, however, pressing her still raw palms against the peeling paint of the door. Dumbledore continued. 

“I received your reply to my letter, Miss Lupin, and I must say I was disappointed.” His eyes softened a little, glittering. “You have the makings of an accomplished witch, I believe you could achieve great things at Hogwarts, were you to attend.” 

Kat swallowed, her eyes flicking between the strange man and her father. She could see that Remus's fist was clenched; his knuckles white. She decided to stand her ground. 

“I don’t want to go; I like Muggle school. My dad can teach me all the magic I need to know. There’s no laws against it.” She recited what he had said to her a month prior. She knew that she was allowed to be home-schooled – Augusta had been considering it with Neville, she had said so last month. 

Dumbledore chuckled. Kat decided that she didn’t like him. 

“That may be so, Katherine, but I am afraid I must insist -” 

“She _said_ no.” Remus had finally spoken. “You didn’t believe me when _I_ told you but here she is, saying it herself. She doesn’t _want_ to go to Hogwarts and I am not going to force her.” There was something dark in his face. Kat didn’t like it, whatever it was. She pressed her hands into the door harder so that the pain flared up a little. She wished that Dumbledore would disappear and go back to whatever magical world he had come from. She just wanted to be with her dad. 

Dumbledore stood up calmly and brushed his hands on his knees before addressing Remus. He looked as if Remus had merely asked if he would like some tea. “Remus, perhaps we might step into the kitchen for a moment?” 

Once again, Remus looked as if he was holding something back. He threw a glace over to Kat, who shrugged, and he nodded. He followed Dumbledore out of the living room and into the kitchen, and a strange, artificial silence fell upon the room. Kat could see their mouths moving – could see her dad shouting and Dumbledore countering him calmly – but she could hear nothing. It was weird. Not any kind of magic she had ever seen before. The only magic they ever used was for repairing things. 

A few minutes passed and Kat thought it might be safe for her to leave her spot by the door and hop up onto the sofa. She drew her legs up into her chest and hugged her knees, the plaster still visible through the hole in her trousers. It was starting to peel off from bending her leg so much. She picked at it absently while she waited for the grown-ups to stop talking. Eventually, the sound from the kitchen resumed, as if someone had unmuted the television. Dumbledore left the room first, standing silently in front of Kat, his expression teetering on the edge of neutral and triumphant. Remus emerged a few seconds later. His eyes looked red. 

“You will receive an equipment list and your train ticket in the post within the next week. Please do let us know if you have any financial difficulties, there is a fund in place for those who may, ah, _struggle_. I look forward to you joining us at Hogwarts in September, Miss Lupin.” Dumbledore said all of this so quickly that Kat could barely process it. He was already heading to the door before she could even scramble to her feet, calling after him as he opened the door. 

“But I don’t want to -” A loud _CRACK_ in the hallway cut her off. She looked to her father for some kind of reassurance. “I don’t _actually_ have to go, do I?” 

Remus was stood, looking defeated, in the middle of the room. He looked as if someone had let all of the air out of him. He collapsed down into the threadbare armchair by the fireplace, sinking his head into his hands as he swore under his breath. That answered Kat’s question. 

She did not move from where she stood by the door. “But, why?” 

Remus looked up at her, his expression forced. “The, uh, home-schooling policy doesn’t stretch to, uh,” he winced, “people with my _condition_.” 

_Oh_. 

Kat stood up a little straighter. “So, I just won’t learn magic.” She said, matter-of-factly. Remus gave a harsh laugh. 

“I wish it was that simple, Kat. You have to go.” 

Kat wasn’t having this. “Why? Just because some old man said so? I _won’t_ , I’ll just not get on the train.” 

“They’ll come and get you.” 

Kat felt tears pricking in the corners of her eyes. She couldn’t cry over this, she refused. She shook her head. She didn’t want to go; she didn’t want to leave her dad. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t fighting as hard as she was – why he wasn’t as angry as her. He looked so small and defeated – almost pathetic. Kat hated that she was so upset with him. 

“Kat,” he said, looking at her softly, “they don’t think I can look after you properly.” 

Kat scoffed. “That’s stupid, you’re my dad, you look after me fine.” 

“They have a point, Kat, we can’t even afford food most of the time.” Remus looked so downtrodden; more tired than Kat had ever seen him, and it wasn’t even a full moon soon. 

Kat shrugged. “They give me food at school, and anyway you’ll get paid for marking all the exam papers this year like usual and we’ll be fine again.” 

Remus shook his head and sighed, his head back in his hands. “That’s not the point, Kat... There’s no getting out of this, okay. Dumbledore’s orders.” 

“I don’t care what stupid old Dumbledore has to say!” Kat was shouting now, hands on her hips. The tears had begun to spill over onto her cheeks now. She ignored them. 

Remus laughed at her outburst, looking up at her with a soft look in his eye. This just frustrated her further. 

“Why are you just letting them take me?” She sobbed then, a big heaving breath that shook her shoulders and made her chest feel hollow. At Hogwarts she wouldn’t be able to see him. She wouldn’t have any friends there, unless Augusta changed her mind about Neville, and her dad would be completely on his own. It had always been just the two of them, she couldn’t even imagine what life would be like if she couldn’t come home at the end of the day and tell Remus all about her lessons. And who was she going to listen to music with? Neville didn’t like any of the Muggle bands that they did. Kat bet that they didn’t even have radios at Hogwarts. It was going to be miserable. 

“Hey, now.” Remus got up out of his seat immediately, wrapping his arms around her shoulders tightly and holding the back of her head against his shoulder. She sobbed into his shirt for a good minute, her fingers tangling in the fabric at his back as he stooped to her height, clinging to him as if he might disappear. He hummed the melody of an old Beach Boys song in her ear softly as she cried, the same song he used to sing her when she couldn’t sleep. That just made her cry harder. 

“Sometimes we don’t get a choice in how things turn out; we just have to take it on the chin and do our best with it.” Remus was whispering to her now, one hand in her hair, trying to soothe her. “Remember how I told you your mum and dad died and left you with me? I didn’t know the first thing about raising a kid and you turned out great. You’re going to do amazing things at Hogwarts, and if you still want to live in the Muggle world afterwards, we’ll sort something out. You can come home every Christmas and Easter, if you want to – and I’ll write to you every week. How does that sound?” 

Kat nodded into his shoulder, trying to steady her breathing. It was embarrassing how much she was crying. She _really_ didn’t want to go, but she _had_ to. She pushed back and stood on her own, fixing Remus with a stern look and raising an eyebrow. “ _Twice_ a week.” 

He laughed, straightening up to his full height and ruffling her hair with one hand. “Okay then, _twice_ a week. Stay there.” He pointed at her before leaving the room and rummaging around in the bedroom, emerging a few seconds later with his wand and an old battered suitcase tied shut with string. 

“First things first.” He put the case down and held his wand up. Kat held her hands out to him and he tapped each palm once. The raw scuffs dried and healed over instantly, leaving smooth skin in their place. “Knee.” 

Kat hopped up onto the sofa again, sniffing loudly and wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand. She pulled the plaster off her graze through the gaping hole in her trousers, scrunching it up in a fist while Remus tapped the cut and it healed instantly. 

“ _Reparo_.” He muttered, performing a more precise wand movement this time. Kat’s trousers knitted themselves back together, leaving no indication that they had ever been torn in the first place. “Right,” he started, sitting down on the hardwood floor and turning the suitcase around to face him, “this is all my old school stuff.” 

Kat was shocked. Remus had barely ever spoken about his life before he had taken in Kat. The most he had ever said about Hogwarts was that he had enjoyed it. Kat knelt down on the floor opposite him, watching as he fumbled with the string tying the case together for a moment, and she noted that there were peeling letters painted onto the leather. 

“Why does it say ‘Professor’?” 

Remus looked at the words for a few moments, as if he hadn’t even noticed them. A shadow of something fell across his face before he spoke, his words carefully considered. “My friends wrote it, as a joke. I ran a study club.” 

He looked almost sad. Kat didn’t want to say anything else. 

“Hopefully they haven’t updated the textbooks since I was at school, though they might be on new editions. I still have most of my books – I did sell a few of them on though. Ah!” He pulled out an old brown leather book. The gold lettering on the front read _Hogwarts: A History_. 

He held out the book to Kat and she took it tentatively. She still wasn’t sold on this idea, but this was the most she had seen her father talk about his past in her whole life. She turned the book over in her hands as she watched him pick up an old red and gold scarf absently. 

“Read that – it'll tell you everything you need to know about the place, I think it has a basic map in there – if only I’d thought to keep _our_ map...” He rifled through the contents of the case, digging around to the bottom, throwing out old pieces of parchment, broken feather quills and packets of cigarettes that must have been fifteen years old. “I really should have had a sort-out sooner – some of this stuff is _really_ past its best-before date...” He picked up a small hessian sack with his thumb and forefinger, looking at it anxiously. 

Kat eyed it sceptically. Remus shrugged. 

“Dungbomb - I should probably reducto this so it doesn’t go off in the binman’s face.” 

Kat wrinkled her nose. “What’s a dungbomb?” Her head was filled with images of the binman being suddenly covered in poo. It sounded gross, but admittedly hilarious. 

“Exactly what you think it is.” Remus raised an eyebrow and laughed, before picking up his wand again and reducing the sack to a pile of ashes on the rug. Kat laughed too, happy to see her dad smiling for once. 

* * *

Thursday 27th June, 1991 

“Dumbledore was _actually_ at your house? _Woah_.” 

Neville was staring at Kat with his mouth wide open, his eyes round and glassy. She had recounted to him the story of that evening, when she had come home from school and the headmaster had turned her whole life upside down. She had been forbidden to tell any of her Muggle friends anything about Hogwarts or why she would not be going to school with them next year anymore, but Remus had told her that she had to tell Neville and Augusta. He had planned to tell them himself, but Augusta had always been quite lax on her timings, and they had had to leave immediately with no chance for discussion. 

“Yeah,” Kat shovelled a second helping of mashed potatoes onto her plate hungrily, “though I don’t really like him much.” 

Neville frowned, and Augusta tutted from her seat across the kitchen. “But he’s _Dumbledore_ , he’s the greatest wizard who ever lived.” Neville argued, propping his chin up on his arm, elbow on the table. 

Kat shrugged at him. “He doesn’t think my dad is ‘capable of looking after me’” She made speech marks in the air with her fingers as she spoke, before shaking her head. “Stupid, if you ask me. We’re not even doing that bad at the moment.” 

“Didn’t your electricity go out last month?” Neville asked. He had to scrunch up his face as he asked. Kat knew he struggled to remember the name. 

“That doesn’t mean he can’t look after me. He said it was Dumbledore that gave me to him in the first place. It doesn’t make any sense to me.” She sighed, but went back to eating. She liked full moons because Augusta always made far too much food and never minded if Kat had seconds or even thirds. _And_ there was always pudding. 

“At least we get to go to school together now.” Neville said, smiling. “I got my letter last week – I was worried that my magic wouldn’t be strong enough for me to get in.” 

“Don’t be stupid, Neville,” Kat brushed him off, “I’m sure that’s not how it works.” 

Augusta tutted loudly again from the other side of the room. “And you’d know so much about magic, wouldn’t you?” 

Kat rolled her eyes at Neville and they shared a laugh. Augusta was always so mean to them, at this point Kat thought that it was funny. Neville’s laugh was more nervous, but his cheeks were rosy all the same. 

They finished up their potatoes and Augusta served them ice cream for pudding. It was delicious. The clock on the wall chimed ten o’clock and Augusta clapped her hands loudly. 

“Right, it’s time for bed – you have school in the morning, Katherine.” She waved her wand and the dishes on the table soared into the air, travelling across the kitchen so that they landed on the draining board. Kat groaned loudly. 

“But I only just _got_ here!” 

Neville frowned. “Can’t we stay up a little later tonight, gran? Usually, we get to stay up when Kat’s here.” 

“Don’t lie to me, boy.” Augusta raised a stern eyebrow. “You only get to stay up on weekends. Off to bed, both of you.” 

It didn’t really matter – Kat always slept on the floor in Neville’s room anyway. Augusta would be asleep by eleven, and after that they were free to sneak the lamp on and talk for as long as they liked. Neville seemed mainly to just have a lot of questions about what Dumbledore had been like, and he never seemed very satisfied with Kat’s negative answers. He did not seem as surprised as she was that he had forced her to go to Hogwarts instead of allowing her to go to Muggle school, but she tried not to be too concerned about that. She was starting to come around to the idea of learning magic. No one could ever force her to do anything she didn’t want to do again if she could hex them. 

“What house do you think you’ll be in?” Neville asked. He was hanging upside down off of the edge of his bed so that their faces were close enough to be able to whisper. Kat lay on her stomach, her chin propped up on her fist. She inclined her head; she hadn’t considered this. 

“My dad said he was in the red one,” she said carefully, “but I don’t remember what it’s called.” 

“Gryffindor!” Neville whispered excitedly. “My parents were in that house too – sometimes it can run in families, but gran reckons I’ll be in Hufflepuff... Do you know what house your birth parents were in?” 

She shook her head at him. “I don’t know anything about them.” 

“Why don’t you ask?” 

Kat frowned at Neville. “Because I’m not interested.” 

It was true. She’d never really thought about them, and she didn’t really care that much. She had a family, as far as she was concerned – her dad and her grandad, who she saw very rarely because he didn’t often travel from Wales, but who always treated her like his own grandchild whenever he was around. Sometimes she even forgot that she had been adopted. 

Neville shrugged, which looked funny upside down, and yawned widely. His alarm clock read 2 o’clock. 

“Well, I think you’ll be a Ravenclaw,” Neville stated, “because you’re smart. Always going on about numbers and piano and stuff – the clever ones are all in Ravenclaw.” 

“What about Hufflepuff, what are they like?” Kat asked, reaching down to scratch her leg. Her scars always got itchy on a full moon. 

Neville practically lit up – finally, a topic that _he_ was the expert in for once – and he sprung immediately into a monologue about all the different attributes of the houses. Kat learned that Hufflepuffs were fiercely loyal and were really hard workers, so it was always good to have a Hufflepuff as a friend. Hufflepuffs were also a bit of a joke, though, because according to the founding myth all the other houses had chosen traits for their pupils and Hufflepuff had just ended up with the rest. Neville insisted that he was a spare, and that that was where he belonged. Kat had tried to protest, but he had shushed her. 

“Ravenclaw is for the smart ones, like I said before. People who are good at riddles and read loads of books and stuff. The Ravenclaws _always_ come top in exams, and they’re also supposed to be really funny. They’re good at music and stuff like that too – I reckon that’s why you’ll be in there. You love music _and_ you’re funny.” His cheeks went a little red, though it might have been because he had been hanging upside down for so long. 

“Gryffindors are supposed to be really brave. Gran says most of the people mum and dad knew were in Gryffindor, because most of their friends were fighting in the war – like your dad. They’re also supposed to be daring and up for a challenge and stuff. Gran says they’re the best at sports too, but that’s just because she’s a Quidditch fan. 

“I’ll be happy in any house apart from Slytherin, honestly, they all sound scary.” Neville shuddered. “Most of You-Know-Who's supporters were in Slytherin, it’s where all the dark wizards go.” 

Kat pulled a face. “They can’t just have a house for evil people, that makes no sense.” 

“It’s not _for_ evil people, Merlin was a Slytherin! Just most of the evil people were in Slytherin at school. They’re supposed to be ambitious and will do anything to achieve their goals – plus they’re supposed to be really cunning.” 

Kat had to admit they did sound like a slimy bunch. She secretly hoped that she would be in Gryffindor, like Remus. 

“We should sleep, I have to be up so I can floo home at seven.” Kat rolled over and stretched her arms out above her, yawning. It was dark in the room, but once the lamp was off Kat could see the moonlight spilling in around the edge of the curtains, softly illuminating a border around the window. 

She wondered where Remus was, and she hoped that he was alright. 

* * *

Sunday, 1st September, 1991 

“DAAAAAAAD, WHERE’S THE FLOO POWDER?” 

There really wasn’t any need to shout so loud, it wasn’t as if the flat was big. She just needed to make sure she got her father’s attention - he was probably off worrying about something somewhere. 

Kat’s school things had been packed neatly into Remus’s old suitcase, which they had tied closed with string again just in case the old clasps wouldn’t hold all the way to school. She had a ham and cheese sandwich (on white bread with the crusts cut off) in the pockets of her jeans – hand-me-downs from Neville – and her brand-new wand was twisted in her hair to hold it out of her face. 

Kat tutted, fishing around the back of the TV stand, where they usually hid anything too magical looking, in case of any muggle visitors. She couldn’t reach it – her dad’s arms were much longer than hers. She looked up at the clock on the mantlepiece from where she lay on her tummy on the floor – it was half past 10. They really needed to get a move on. 

“Hang on.” Remus appeared from the bedroom, looking around anxiously. He was ticking off a mental checklist, Kat could tell, making sure she had packed everything. He needn’t have been so worried – she had an _actual_ checklist. He gave Katherine a look and inclined his head to the TV stand (actually just a second-hand bedside table they had found at a car boot sale), so she got up off the floor, brushing her hands on her threadbare robes before she took hold of the furniture. He grabbed the other side and they lifted it out of the way together. He probably wasn’t feeling up to stretching around to get it. 

He picked up the old tobacco tin in which they kept their floo powder and waved it at her. “See,” he raised an eyebrow, “no need to shout the house down. Everyone in the building’ll hear you.” 

Kat shook her head, and dragged the TV stand roughly across the floorboards back to its original place. It was a little heavy, but she could manage. Her dad busied himself by checking all of his pockets, and the locks on the door. Had he remembered to turn off the stove this morning? He didn’t need to say any of these things, Kat could tell exactly what he was thinking. He always fussed such a lot. 

Remus was tall. He could reach up to touch the ceilings without even having to jump. Kat couldn’t do that; she always needed a step ladder to help put up the paper chains at Christmas. His face was lined with scars and blemishes, dark circles under his kind eyes, worn from the moons. They had taken a toll on his hair too – it was greying and less thick than she could remember from her youth, though it was still shiny and gold in the sunlight that streamed through the living room window. 

“’People in the building can’t even hear us – you said the spells blocked out all the noise.” She put her hands on her hips. Remus sighed. 

“Too clever for your own good.” He poked a finger at her and she smiled. “I still reckon you’ll be a Ravenclaw.” 

Kat screwed up her face as she dragged her suitcase into the fireplace and stood next to it. “Ew, I’d rather be a slimy Slytherin.” She shook her head. “I’m gonna be a Gryffindor like you.” She said this as if it was a fact. As far as she was concerned it was. Since her conversation with Neville, she had become very attached to the idea of continuing her dad’s legacy and being sorted into his house. She liked the idea of being strong and brave. _Hogwarts: A History_ had definitely made it sound like Gryffindor was the best house. 

Remus joined her in the fireplace, still holding the tin of floo powder. They usually saved it for full moons, but they didn’t need it this year – except at Christmas and Easter, when she would be going to stay with her grandfather. She had since learned that Lyall had been in Ravenclaw, which she thought suited him just fine, and that he had been in the duelling club. She liked the sound of that, and had added ‘join the duelling club as soon as possible’ to her Hogwarts to-do list. 

“Ready?” He asked. Kat looked up at him, hunched in the fireplace, and nodded. 

“Platform Nine and Three Quarters.” He said it clearly, then dropped the floo powder. Cool green flames enveloped them and they were suddenly falling through the darkness. Kat used to think that travelling by floo powder was horrible, it scared her almost as much as the reason she needed to travel so often, but by now she was used to it. They landed in one of a long row of fireplaces at the end of a train platform, and the smell of wood smoke filled her nose. 

“Here we are.” Remus smiled down at her and picked up her suitcase. Kat heard his elbow click loudly but knew by this point not to comment on it, he would only get annoyed. 

They stepped off of the grate and onto the shiny platform. It was bathed in steam from the gleaming red engine that stood magnificently, waiting for the students to board. Hundreds of children were milling about on the platform, hanging out of the windows, and dragging big trunks through the doors and onto the carriages. Kat felt a pang of something deep in her stomach and found herself reaching to hold her father’s hand for the first time in several years, staring straight ahead. 

“Twice a week, yeah?” He said quietly, squeezing her hand softly. She squeezed back. “Come on,” he continued, “let’s go find Neville.” 

They made their way up the platform; Kat looking this way and that, searching for her friend, still clinging desperately to her dad’s hand as if she would never see him again. Neville and Augusta were hanging around by a bench, and Augusta was looking disapprovingly at the boy, straightening up the clasps on his robes. Neville didn’t look very happy until he looked up and saw the Lupins heading towards him, a smile cracking across his round face. 

“Kat!” He broke away from his grandmother’s grip just as Kat felt a wave of relief hit her. She dropped Remus’s hand and ran towards her friend, who pulled her into a hug. He was practically vibrating with excited energy, and as they pulled away from each other, Neville didn’t even react to his grandmother’s loud tutting. 

“Come back here, Neville, and let me sort out your robes! Whatever will they think – the son of Frank and Alice Longbottom showing up to Hogwarts looking so scruffy? You embarrass me.” She pulled him back over to her, smoothing the fabric at his shoulders roughly, just as Remus caught up with them. 

“Now, Augusta, I seem to remember Frank taking as many liberties with his uniform as he could get away with – I saw McGonagall charm his tie so that he couldn’t take it off for a week in my second year.” Remus raised an eyebrow at the witch, who tutted loudly again, giving Neville a stern look. 

“Don’t you listen to him.” 

Neville caught Remus’s eye and they shared a smile. The two didn’t often get to meet, but Neville always enjoyed it when they did. Frank and Alice had been a few years older than Remus, but he had plenty of stories to tell from the few years they were at Hogwarts together – mainly involving parties in the common room or other such things that made Augusta tut at them. Kat and Neville thought it was very funny. 

Neville looked back up at his grandmother’s face, suddenly overcome with nerves. “I feel like I’ve forgotten something.” He said, his voice wobbly. Kat expected that he probably had – he was always losing things or leaving things behind. 

Augusta waved a hand dismissively. “I’m sure you have, dear. I’ll send anything I find by owl as soon as I can.” Her voice was harsh, as if this was a major inconvenience to her. Neville went a little pale, but she ignored this. “You two should be getting on the train now, don’t you think, Remus?” 

She looked up to Remus, who was staring at the train, completely distracted. He snapped back to them, confused. He had clearly not been listening. “Huh?” 

“Mrs Longbottom said we should be getting on the train.” Kat explained, the relief she had felt at seeing Neville on the platform subsiding a little, letting the niggling fear back into the pit of her stomach. Remus nodded at her, still looking a little lost. 

Neville and Augusta went about saying their goodbyes – which seemed to be extremely formal by Kat’s standards. She ignored them, wrapping her arms around Remus’s neck as he bent down to hug her. They stayed for a few moments, silent, just holding onto each other. Kat started to feel like she might cry again, but she absolutely could _not_ do that here – she didn’t want everyone’s first impression of her to be the crying girl on the platform. She could hear her dad breathing shakily in her ear – was _he_ crying? She hadn’t ever seen him cry before, not that she could remember. She felt a lump in her throat. 

It was fine, though. They would see each other at Christmas. _And_ he would write twice a week. 

She let go of him but he held on for a few moments longer, taking a deep breath. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were red again, just like they had been when Dumbledore had visited. He gave her a weak, watery smile, placing his hand carefully on her arm. 

“Remember, I’m just an owl away – if you need _anything_ just tell me.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m going to miss you, kiddo.” 

Kat felt tears prickling in the corners of her eyes again and blinked them back. She returned his weak smile, taking her suitcase from him – noting the peeling painted letters which shone gold under the oil lamps above them. 

“Love you, dad.” She waved with her free hand, stepping away from him. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to tell him she would miss him without having a full-on crying fit on the platform, so she decided not to take the risk. Neville was hanging back a little, waiting for her to start heading towards the train carriages. Remus returned her small wave. 

“Love you too, Kat.” 

Kat hurried after Neville, not allowing herself to look back. This was it: she was leaving all of that behind. No more Muggle school; no more watching telly or listening to CDs and records when she got home, dancing around the kitchen while Remus cooked their dinner. She tried not to worry about Remus being on his own while she was away. 

They clambered on board and bundled their luggage – Neville's a beautiful antique trunk, Kat’s the beaten-up old leather suitcase - into the luggage rack, before heading down the carriage to find an empty compartment, or at least one that only had other first years in. They were still relatively early, the train wouldn’t be leaving for another fifteen minutes, so there weren’t too many students on board yet. The second compartment they came across was empty, so they slid open the door and settled themselves down onto the scratchy seats. Kat kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs. Neville looked out onto the platform anxiously. 

“Do you really think people will be disappointed in me?” He asked, his voice low as if Augusta would be able to hear him. Kat shook her head violently – she hated how Neville doubted himself. 

“Of course not! You heard my dad, it’s not as if your parents were model students.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Anyway, you’re not them – I bet none of the other students will even care who your parents are.” 

There was a knock at the door and it was slid open before they could say anything. Three boys stood in the corridor, two tall, dark haired boys flanking a third, who was skinny and blond. The blond boy regarded Kat with an eye of judgement, lingering on the shabby trainers at her feet for a few moments before stopping at her confused, but welcoming, face. 

“Hiya,” she smiled warmly, “are you in first year, too?” She waved at them. The boy scowled. 

“Of course,” he said haughtily, drawing himself up to his full height, “I’m Draco Malfoy – and you?” 

Kat tried very hard not to laugh. She supposed she ought to get used to wizarding names fairly quickly or she’d be insulting everyone that she met. She secretly thought that Neville’s name was hilarious, but she would never tell him. Neville had caught her eye and was staring at her, trying to have some sort of wordless conversation that Kat couldn’t understand. Maybe he knew this boy? 

“I’m Kat Lupin.” She smiled and held out a hand for him to shake. He looked down at it in disgust and did not take it. She ploughed on regardless. “This is my friend Neville Longbottom.” 

The boy’s eyebrows shot up at that, and a smirk curled up onto his lips. He looked back at his companions, who he had neglected to introduce, Kat noticed, and spoke as if the two friends weren’t within earshot. 

“Looks like we’ve found a compartment to avoid, come on.” They left, heading further down the carriage, letting the door slam shut behind them. 

“What was that about?” Kat asked Neville, who was breathing very heavily on the seat opposite, looking down at his feet. Neville shook his head, waving a hand to tell her to drop it. “Okay, okay! Are you alright?” She was starting to get concerned. 

“Just - I’ve heard of the Malfoys.” Neville leaned forward in his seat, lowering his voice. “They were on _his_ side during the war.” 

Kat looked back up at the door. They were gone, of course, but it was strange just knowing. That didn’t necessarily mean that Malfoy was bad, though, did it? The war was over, her dad had told her so. 

“Hopefully he’ll be alright though, it’s not like You-Know-Who is still around.” She looked back at Neville, who seemed unsure. 

“Did you see the way he reacted when he heard our names? Loads of the old pureblood families are like that. They don’t like my family because we’re ‘blood traitors’.” He made air quotes around his words, shuddering. “They think muggle-borns are worse at magic or something, it’s not nice.” 

Kat tutted. “As if your family has anything to do with how good you are at magic.” 

The train lurched and began to pull out of the platform, and Kat finally allowed herself to look outside. She searched for her dad among the crowd of parents stood watching the train depart and saw him stood, now next to two red-haired grown-ups and a young ginger girl. He was searching for her in the windows, and she waved at him frantically. Neville was waving to Augusta too, who did not wave back. 

Remus spotted her and grinned, watching her as she left the station, and the muggle world, behind. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you!” Neville spoke suddenly as the platform left their view. “I can’t find Trevor anywhere – will you help me find him?” 

* * *

_I may not always love you_   
_But long as there are stars above you_   
_You never need to doubt it_   
_I'll make you so sure about it_   
_God only knows what I'd be without you_

* * *

While she was at Hogwarts her house was to be like her family, McGonagall had said before leading the first years into the hall for the sorting ceremony. If only that had actually been true, Kat might have been looking forward to her year at Hogwarts a little more, but the moment that the Sorting Hat had spoken her stomach had gone cold. 

“Lupin, Katherine!” Professor McGonagall had called her name out and she had jumped. Hundreds of pairs of eyes training on her as she stepped forward and towards the stool at the front of the room. She sat, feeling suddenly very self-conscious of her shabby second-hand robes and her battered trainers, looking down at her hands and playing with a loose thread on her sleeve. The hat was placed upon her head and a hush fell over the Great Hall, everyone staring. Kat closed her eyes. 

A voice, quiet and smug, that sounded as if it was actually _inside_ Kat’s head began to speak. She tried not to let her shock show on her face. 

“ _Ah, there’s a good head on your shoulders: hard-working, disciplined, ambitious. Organised and determined. Gryffindor material, of course, like your ancestors before you. I could see you doing great things elsewhere, however._ _There’s_ _something else, a penchant for deception,_ _a_ _mistrust of authority. Yes, indeed...”_

The voice was silent for a few moments. Kat held her breath. She _really_ wanted to be a Gryffindor, like her dad. Neville had just been sorted into the house too, and she so wanted them to be together. The girl from the train who had been helping them look for Trevor had been sorted into Gryffindor too. It would just make sense. She knew she would be able to make friends there. 

“ _Gryffindor would hold you back. No, it had better be -”_

A large rip in the brim of the hat opened wide and the hat shouted out to the entire hall, sealing Kat’s fate for the next seven years of her life. 

“Slytherin!” 

Her stomach went cold and dropped out and under the wooden stool she was sitting precariously on. Professor McGonagall lifted the hat from her head and indicated to the last table on the left, full of students with green and silver ties and details on their dark robes. There was a cheer, and students were clapping, but Kat was in shock. In no version of this moment that she had imagined over the past two months had this happened. Whatever would Remus say? 

Did this mean she was bad? 

She got up and hurried over to the Slytherin table, throwing an apologetic look over to Neville, who was wearing a distinctly glum expression. She didn’t blame him; she was feeling pretty glum herself. She slipped into a seat next to the other new Slytherins (so far consisting of Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe, Tracey Davis, Gregory Goyle and Daphne Greengrass) accepting a few handshakes and introductions from the older students, and trying to ignore the few who gave her dirty looks because of her appearance. 

Kat could barely concentrate through the rest of the sorting ceremony. She watched as the other first years were sorted. Draco Malfoy was sorted soon after her, the hat not even taking a second to think before sending him straight over to the Slytherin table. He sat as far away from Kat as he could, bunched up between Crabbe and Goyle. He looked over at her as he whispered something to them, and the three boys laughed wickedly. 

Harry Potter was sorted, unsurprisingly, into Gryffindor. Fitting for the saviour of the wizarding world, Kat thought, and she only felt a little resentment. Her dad had told her that he would be in her year – famous Harry Potter, who was the only person to have ever survived the killing curse, and who had defeated You-Know-Who when he was only a year old. At least Neville could get some cooler friends, now he was over there with a celebrity. He’d probably forget all about Kat in a few weeks. 

She could feel tears pooling in her eyes, threatening to spill out onto her cheeks, but held them back. If there was anywhere to avoid crying, it was absolutely the Slytherin table. By the end of the sorting the existing first year Slytherins were joined, in order, by Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Pansy settled into the seat next to Kat, giving her a nervous smile before looking around anxiously at the other occupants of the table. 

There were speeches and notices next, things that Kat wasn’t too interested in. She noted that the third-floor corridor was now out of bounds, but she did not feel like she would have much time for exploring the castle anyway. Before she had left, her dad had bought her some muggle school textbooks for English and maths, and she intended to spend every free moment she had studying from them. They must have cost a lot of money, so she had to get as much use out of them as possible. And, of course, she would need to find time to hang out with Neville, if he still wanted to now she was a Slytherin. 

Dumbledore stood, watching over them all like an elaborate owl, his robes brightly coloured and his eyes sparkling. Most of the students were looking at him with awe. Kat hated it. She hated _him_. He was the one who had forced her to come here, to leave her plans and her family, to come to somewhere where they didn’t even get to read muggle books or watch the telly on an evening. She thought back to what Neville had said about pureblood families being snobbish about muggle-borns; would they let her put on her music in the common room? She had managed to bring her dad’s old tape deck and the mix tapes she had made that summer with all of their favourite songs. He said that batteries still worked at Hogwarts, but had taught her a spell that would make it work once they had run out, which she had written down in her notebook. She could always take it up to Gryffindor Tower if they didn’t. 

Dumbledore stopped talking and raised his hands. The empty plates in front of them all filled immediately with the most delicious looking feast that Kat had ever seen. There was _so much food_ , even more than Augusta made on a full moon when she knew that Kat was visiting. She didn’t even know where to start. 

The other first years were all filling their plates already, piling them high with roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. Kat turned to Pansy and whispered. 

“Are we allowed to eat as much as we want?” 

Pansy looked at her, frowning like she had just asked the stupidest question that Pansy had ever heard. “Duh.” 

Kat felt her face grow hot. She wasn’t used to this sort of thing, but the other Slytherins clearly were. Tracey, who was sat opposite her, held out a serving spoon to Kat and smiled. 

“Here - get some before the boys eat it all.” 

Kat smiled gratefully and gave a quiet laugh, still feeling distinctly alien at the table. She shovelled vegetables and meat onto her plate until food was almost spilling over the edge and onto the table, before taking the gravy jug and promptly drowning everything. It was all she could do to stop herself shovelling it all into her mouth in five seconds flat. Her stomach was growling, as it usually was, and it was like this was the first time she had ever noticed how truly _hungry_ she was. 

She had seconds _and_ thirds, and would have gone for fourths too if the plates hadn’t cleared themselves before she had a chance. They were filled again almost instantly, but this time with desserts of all different types. Cream cakes and treacle tarts and lemon meringue pies. Kat didn’t know where to start. She hadn’t even _seen_ half of the things on the table before. 

She started out sensible – a slice of everything within reach. 

Kat was spooning custard into a bowl, listening to Tracey chat across the table with Pansy about their family dinners back home, when her attention was drawn by Malfoy’s short laugh from down the table. 

“Anyone would think she’s never eaten before. Well, judging by those robes she probably hasn’t.” He was speaking almost as loud as possible, making sure that Kat could hear him. She slammed down the custard jug loudly, dropping her spoon into her bowl and pushing the crockery away so that it scraped across the table. She wasn’t so hungry anymore. “I can’t believe they’re letting people like that into Slytherin these days – did you hear she’s a Lupin? A half-blood.” 

Tracey huffed loudly, scowling down the table at Malfoy, who was smiling smugly, his eyes flickering occasionally down to Kat to make sure that his comments had had the desired effect. Tracey was small and dumpy, with brown hair that was almost black, and skin the colour of caramel. She hissed down the table at Draco with venom. 

“Piss off, Malfoy, I bet she walks all over you in lessons.” 

Tracey caught Kat’s eye and gave her an encouraging smile, reaching across the table and pushing the bowl back towards Kat. “You should eat as much as you like, you look like you need it.” She caught herself, her mouth forming an o-shape before she continued. “I don’t mean that in a rude way! I just – sorry, I’m just nervous.” 

“No, it’s okay.” Kat returned the smile and picked up her spoon. “Thanks.” 

“I’m a half-blood too, if that helps.” Tracey continued, picking up an iced bun from a nearby platter and taking a bite out of it. 

Kat shrugged. “I don’t really know why it matters.” 

“It doesn’t!” Tracey exclaimed through a mouthful of pastry. “It’s just weirdo families like the Malfoys and the Blacks who think it makes any difference. And He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, of course.” She looked down at her plate, frowning. She shook her head. “Anyway, if they give you any more shit about it just let me know, I’ve got your back, Lupin.” 

Kat grinned. She liked Tracey, she seemed friendly and like she really said what she was thinking. She swore almost as much as Remus did, which made Kat feel at home, and didn’t seem to think that her lack of brand-new robes and posh clothes made her any less of a person. Kat relaxed a little, feeling safer now she knew that at least one person in her house was going to be her friend. 

“So,” Tracey started, “do you like music?” 

* * *

The prefects had led the new Slytherins down to a blank wall in the dungeons, almost completely nondescript, and shown them that this was to be their home while they were at Hogwarts. After speaking the password (" _sanguinis_ _pura_ _”,_ though this would change every two weeks), a hidden door in the wall slid open, revealing the entrance to the Slytherin common room. 

It was cavernous, with a low ceiling of exposed stone. There were green lamps hanging down from chains, and the windows that lined the room looked out directly into the lake – dark and ominous now the sun had gone down. A fire crackled loudly in an elaborate mantlepiece at the far end of the room, surrounded by carved wooden chairs and low-backed leather sofas. Kat wasn’t sure that she liked it very much. 

They were given a short tour by their prefects, who pointed out where the study area was, as well as the communal bookshelf, chess board and the bulletin board. The password would be posted on the board on every second Monday, so Kat made a mental note to make sure that she checked before going to breakfast. She did not feel like many of the others would be very willing to help her out if she forgot, they did not give her a very warm or friendly impression. 

The prefects split the group up, and the female prefect took the first-year girls further down the stairs to the left of the fireplace to a landing three storeys below the common room. Three doors lined the hallway, one on either side of the hall and one at the end, which housed the first-year girls’ bathroom. There were two dorm rooms, one for two students and the other for three, and it was up to them who got to be in which room, though whatever decision they made that day had to be final. Tracey had grabbed a hold of Kat’s arm immediately, and Kat had hoped that they would be able to claim the room for two people, but Pansy Parkinson spoke up first. 

“Me and Daphne will have this room, the _half-bloods_ can have their own dorm _.”_ She sneered at them, taking Daphne Greengrass’s hand and pulling her towards the door that the prefect had indicated was for a pair. Kat glanced up at the prefect, but she seemed unbothered, and perhaps even a little impressed, by Pansy’s declaration. 

“Excellent.” The prefect scribbled down their names on a piece of parchment, which then vanished from her hand. “Your things should have been put in your rooms now. Remember that breakfast starts at six and ends at eight thirty, and that your classes will start tomorrow at 9am. Professor Snape will deliver your timetables at breakfast.” 

Pansy nodded but did not speak, simply opening the door to her dorm room and leaving them all stood in the hallway. Daphne left too, hurrying after Pansy with only a quick glance at the other girls. The remaining three first-years looked at each other, and Millicent Bulstrode shrugged before leaving herself, opening the door to their room and leaving Kat and Tracey alone with the prefect on the landing. 

“Uh, thank you!” Kat smiled politely to the prefect, who gave her a nod and a strange look, as if she did not want to speak to Kat. 

“No problem.” She gave the girls a small wave before heading up the stairs, presumably leaving to go to her own dormitory. 

Kat looked at Tracey nervously. Neither of them had spoken to Millicent at dinner and she looked incredibly intimidating. Her shoulders were broad and she was very tall compared to the other first years, and she had a distinctly unkind face. But still, she was a half-blood like them, and hopefully that was something that could bring them all together, especially seeing as it was all the Slytherins seemed to care about. 

Tracey turned back to the door and pulled it open, gesturing for Kat to enter the room. It was rectangular, with one window that looked out into the dark waters of the lake, and lavish tapestries hanging down the walls. There was a small but ornate fireplace against one of the walls, where a warm fire crackled. 

Millicent was currently knelt on the bed that was underneath the window, squinting out into the darkness as if she was looking for something. The two other beds were pushed up against the walls on opposing sides of the door, and each had a shiny mahogany bedside table by the head and a large trunk at the foot, as well as rich, green curtains which hung from posts at each corner. They looked incredibly comfortable. Kat could hardly believe she got to sleep in it. 

“Whatcha looking at?” Tracey asked Millicent, approaching her and squinting over her shoulder. It was so pitch black Kat was sure they couldn’t see anything at all, but she supposed they really ought to at least try to have a conversation. 

Millicent looked over her shoulder back at Tracey and gave her a small smile, which looked out of place on her cruel face. “I swear I saw a grindylow when I came in here – so cool. It swam away, though.” She dropped her hands from the windowsill and turned around, falling so that she was sat with her legs crossed on the bed, which Kat presumed she had claimed as her own. “Do you reckon there’s other magical creatures in there?” 

Kat nodded knowledgably. _Hogwarts: A History_ had included a detailed list of the species which could be found in the black lake. “There are mermaids and all sorts in the lake – apparently there’s a giant squid too. My dad and his friends once charmed it red as a joke after Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup.” 

Millicent screwed up her face in disgust. “Your dad was a Gryffindor? Gross.” 

Kat squirmed a little, uncomfortable to already be falling into a house debate. She shrugged, “I don’t think it matters that much.” 

She turned around quickly, deciding to take the bed by the right-hand wall. She found that her suitcase was already lying at the end of the bed, placed delicately on the dark green covers. She went about untying the string which kept it shut, not looking back up at Millicent. 

“I’m Tracey, by the way.” Tracey had walked over to Millicent and was holding out a hand for her to shake. The girl took her hand firmly and grunted a response. 

“Millie. I don’t think we spoke at the feast?” 

Tracey shook her head, her dark curls falling around her face, and gave Millie a wide smile. “No, but we’ll have plenty of time now to get to know each other, I’m sure we’re all going to be great friends!” 

Millie returned the smile, though hers was a lot less convincing, and hopped off of her bed. They went about unpacking their things and placing them into the drawers at the end of each of their beds, and placing their books and other possessions into their trunks. Tracey was trying to make polite conversation, commenting on Millie’s books or Kat’s old clothes, which were mostly just magically shrunk hand-me-downs from her dad, but Kat did not feel like talking anymore, especially not about the things she owned. She was very aware that most of the other students, especially those in Slytherin, were the opposite of poor, and she was very embarrassed at the tatty state of her things. 

“Ooh, is that a boombox?” Tracey hurried over as Kat pulled the cassette player out of her suitcase and placed it carefully on top of her chest of drawers. It looked incredibly out of place among all the ornate lights and the tapestries. Kat nodded, not saying anything but turning back to her suitcase to pull out her tapes – some were albums, but most were mix tapes she had recorded from Remus’s vinyl collection back home of all of her favourite songs. She piled them up on the chest of drawers, labels out so that she could read the names she had given them. Stupid things like “ _For Sad Days_ ” or “ _Dance Party_ ”. They felt embarrassing now. 

“I brought my record player with me.” Tracey continued, gesturing over to her trunk. “We live in Hogsmeade so electric hi-fis don’t really work properly, but mum still has a load of her muggle records from before she met my dad and he duplicated my favourites for me. The only downside is that we have to wind the player up.” 

Kat looked round at Tracey, who was giving Kat an encouraging smile. She really _was_ trying. Kat returned this, and Tracey took it as a sign to keep talking. 

“You could have a look through them, if you like? I don’t know if you’ll like it because my mum was super into disco but -” 

“I’d love to look.” Kat interrupted her. Remus had never owned any disco records, but Kat had heard some old seventies songs on the radio and had thought they were great fun to dance to. She headed over to Tracey’s side of the dorm and flicked through the box of records in her trunk. There was _so much_ ABBA. Remus would have hated it. Tracey had some Gloria Gaynor and Bee Gees records too, as well as Donna Summer and Diana Ross. As Kat studied the covers Tracey would interject with little comments - “ooh, that’s my favourite one!”, “That song is so good I could listen to it all day.” Millie seemed to be ignoring them, arranging her textbooks on top of her chest of drawers. 

Kat unpacked her alarm clock and placed it on her bedside table, noting that it was already past eleven o’clock. If classes started the next morning, they really ought to have been going to bed soon. She announced this to the rest of the dorm and there were noises of agreement. They had pretty much finished unpacking everything anyway and were adding the finishing touches to their room. Tracey had stuck up some photographs on the wall by her bed, as well as some posters of witches and wizards flying racing brooms. Millicent had Spellotaped a huge poster of a band with a logo reading ‘The Weird Sisters’ over her bed, and was arranging brightly coloured cushions by her pillow, where a small brown teddy bear was lying. 

Kat did not have any posters, but had two small framed photographs, one of her and Remus and the other of her and Neville, on her bedside table, as well as her alarm clock and a copy of _The Worst Witch._ Remus had bought it for her as a joke when he spotted it in a charity shop, but Kat was rather enjoying it. 

She took her pyjamas out of her chest of drawers and the three girls began to get changed ready for bed. Kat supposed she would have to get used to this, sharing a room with two other people. She didn’t mind it so much, she assumed that the others were just as uncomfortable with it as she was, and she turned her back to them as she slipped off her jeans and picked up her pyjama bottoms from her bed. 

“Ew, Kat, what’s up with your legs?” 

Kat froze, still holding her pyjamas up in front of her, staring at them and cursing herself for forgetting. It was different here, not like muggle school, people here actually knew that werewolves existed. She took a deep breath, and turned to address Millie, who had spoken, with what she hoped was a calm and convincing expression. 

“We had a dog but it attacked me, we had to take it back to the shelter.” 

Kat scrambled into her trousers as quickly as possible, but Millie just narrowed her eyes. 

“Those scars looked magical to me.” 

Tracey tutted loudly, crossing her arms across her chest and fixing Millie with a look. “Leave off it, why don’t you?” 

Kat smiled gratefully at Tracey, who gave her a wink and went back to getting ready for bed, but Millie persisted. 

“I’m just saying!” 

Kat shot her a dark look, anger bubbling in her chest. Who was Millie to demand answers about _Kat’s_ body? She knew that Millie’s parents were both magical (she had a muggle grandmother) and therefore she had been brought up in the wizarding world with very little muggle knowledge, so she quickly threw together an explanation. 

“That's just what scars look like when you don’t fix wounds with magic.” Kat said, throwing a look to Tracey as if asking her for confirmation, but silently pleading with her eyes that Tracey just nod along with her. 

Tracey picked up on this immediately. “Yep, she’s right. I bet your parents just used healing charms on you, didn’t they, Millie?” 

Millie nodded, and looked slightly taken aback. Then narrowed her eyes, “I thought you said your dad had magic? Why didn’t he fix them?” 

“I was sent to muggle hospital.” Kat lied quickly, pulling her shirt off over her head and swapping it quickly for her pyjama top so that Millie couldn’t see her face. She was worried that she would give herself away. Kat had never had much cause to lie in the past, and wasn’t sure if she was good at it yet. 

There was a light switch by the door, and each bedside table had its own shiny brass lamp. Kat twisted the knob to turn on her lamp and switched off the lights that hung from the ceiling as the other girls switched on their own lamps. The fire under the mantlepiece died down on its own, as if it too had been connected to the switch, yet the room remained a comfortable warm temperature despite this. Millie pulled the curtain across the window, blocking out any of the creatures that were lurking at the bottom of the lake, and they got into bed. 

“Night, guys.” Tracey called, pulling the curtains around her bed shut after turning off her lamp. Millie grunted in reply, and Kat whispered a goodnight, pulling the soft sheets up around her neck as she propped her pillows up against her headboard. 

Millie drew her bedcurtains closed and turned off her lamp too, but Kat left hers on and open for a while, picking up her book and reading quietly. She was worried the light would disturb the others, but the curtains seemed to block it out adequately enough that neither of them complained. She read until she could barely keep her eyes open – not very long, on account of how late it had gotten – and marked her place with an old London Underground ticket, putting her book back on her table and turning out her lamp. 

She drew the curtains around her bed, now alone in the darkness with nothing but Millie’s light snores and Tracey’s restless shuffling. It was strange, sleeping somewhere so different. For the first time ever, she had a real bed, not one that folded out from a sofa, and the covers were soft and felt expensive. It was luxury, really, but Kat felt herself hating it. She should be back at home, looking forward to starting secondary school with Michael next week, not holed up in a castle with a load of people who thought she was a terrible witch because of the fact her mother was a muggle-born. She didn’t even _know_ her mother. She really didn’t understand why it mattered that much. 

Kat rolled over, lying on her side facing the wall. She had brought with her the toy lion that she had had since she was a baby, but it seemed out of place now. It seemed that her birth parents had assumed she would be in Gryffindor too. Would they have been disappointed in her? Was her dad going to be disappointed in her? She felt tears prick up in the corners of her eyes. She hugged the lion into her chest and sniffed, trying her best not to cry because she knew the other girls would hear her. She closed her eyes and wished that she would wake up and this would all have been a dream, and that she would catch the Hogwarts Express again in the morning and be sorted into Gryffindor with Neville. 


	2. First Year: Flying

_A couple of the sounds that I really like_   
_Are the sounds of a switchblade and a motorbike_   
_I'm a juvenile product of the working class_   
_Whose best friend floats in the bottom of a glass, oh_

_Don't give us none of your aggravation_   
_We had it with your discipline_   
_Saturday night's alright for fighting_   
_Get a little action in_

* * *

Wednesday, 4 th September, 1991

Kat and Tracey made their way down to breakfast at seven-thirty on Wednesday morning, chatting animatedly about their lessons for the day. The Slytherins had their first practical Charms lesson, and Kat had been reading their textbook in advance. Professor Flitwick had told them that they would be practicing levitating charms, and Kat had already been trying out the wand movement in the dorms, though she did not dare attempt the charm itself. She felt prepared, and was excited to get started learning some real, practical magic.

Lessons at Hogwarts had proved to be a lot more demanding than lessons back in muggle primary school. Kat had thrown herself into her reading as much as she could, determined not to fall behind, as the purebloods were so adamant that they were naturally more adept at magic than the half-blood Slytherins. Transfiguration had been the most complicated, taught by the formidable Professor McGonagall. She scared Kat a little, but she seemed to have a soft spot for her for some reason. She wondered if it might have something to do with her parents. 

As they sat down at the Slytherin table - a little ways away from the first-year boys, who were chatting rowdily – their conversation was cut off by the arrival of the post. It always shocked Kat, watching hundreds of owls holding parcels of all shapes and sizes swoop into the hall. A few headed over to the first years and landed on the table, landing delicately between the racks of toast and boxes of cereal. A shabby grey owl landed neatly on the milk jug in front of Kat and presented an envelope to her in its yellow beak. She took the letter from the owl, which ruffled its feathers importantly and accepted the toast crumb that she offered it in thanks, before stretching its wings and flying off again.

The envelope held only her name, written in Remus’s messy cursive script. Kat ripped it open, feeling her stomach twist a little. She had written to him on Monday, telling him that she had been sorted into Slytherin and that she was disappointed in herself, and that she hoped that he wasn’t too upset about it. She turned the parchment away from Tracey so that she could read it in private, afraid of what it would say.

_ Dear Kat, _

_ Congratulations on your sorting! I could never be disappointed in you, even if that old hat had called you a squib and sent you right back home. You’ll do great things in Slytherin – some of the greatest wizards of all time were Slytherins! Did you know about Merlin? I’ll send you one of my old books about him, I think it’s somewhere down in the garage. You shouldn’t be upset; your house doesn’t define who you are as a person at all.  _

_ Have you been speaking to Neville? Augusta sent me an owl saying he was in Gryffindor. I hope that you’re not too disappointed about not being in the same house. I remember that the Gryffindor common room was very welcoming when I was at school, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind you visiting. Say hello to Arthur Weasley’s son, Ron, too. Me and Arthur knew each other when we were younger and he asked about you on the platform. I think you two would get on! _

_ I’ve managed to get myself a job as a substitute english teacher at the local school (I’m sure you’re glad you’re not there now – imagine if I was your teacher!) so I have a job for the next six months. I had to fake some records but it shouldn’t be too much of a problem, and it’s a short enough amount of time that they shouldn’t notice me taking too much time off. If you need any help with that english book I sent you just let me know. I might try and send you some stuff from the school too if I can get permission.  _

_ Let me know how all of your classes are going! I hope that you’re enjoying yourself and making new friends. I know that some of the Slytherins can be snobby, but there were plenty who were alright when I was at school – I'm sure you’ll find your people. _

_ Missing you, _

_ Dad  _

Kat smiled down at the paper – lined, clearly torn from a spiral-bound notebook. The knot which had been tight in her stomach since her sorting subsided slightly. So, she thought, she  _ wasn’t _ bringing shame upon her ancestors. 

She considered what he had said about the Gryffindors. She hadn’t spoken to Neville since the journey on the train. He had attempted to stop her, chat with her in the corridors and in the lessons that they shared, but she had brushed him off every time, not wanting him to get stick for talking to the Slytherins. She knew that there was supposed to be a house rivalry, and didn’t want to get him in trouble. He had been looking distinctly glum whenever she had caught his eye across the Great Hall, and she felt a little guilty about it now. It really wasn’t any way to treat your best friend.

“Hey,” Tracy poked Kat on the shoulder sharply, “everything okay?” She inclined her head towards the paper in Kat’s hand, a concerned look on her face. Kat realised that she had been staring at the letter for several minutes in silence.

“Oh, yeah.” Kat folded the letter back in half and slid it into the open envelope, placing that into her backpack under the table. “My dad replied to my letter. Just congratulating me on the sorting and stuff, and telling me about his new job.”

Tracey dived into a hundred questions about Remus, an interview which took up the majority of their breakfast time. She wanted to know all about him, and Kat obliged, with one big omission. Before she had left for Hogwarts, her dad had made it clear that Kat was to tell no-one that he was a werewolf. Neville already knew, of course, but had been given a similar stern talking to from his grandmother, and he really wasn’t the type of person to gossip like that anyway. Remus had explained that, while Kat had been brought up seeing people with lycanthropy as just the same as everybody else, the majority of the wizarding world saw them as horrible monsters. That was why they had lived among muggles for her whole life, Remus had explained, because they didn’t believe in werewolves and therefore did not discriminate against them. In the wizarding world, he had told her, there were laws that prevented them from getting jobs and, as she had discovered when Dumbledore had visited, home-schooling their children.

“Before I came here he was trying to get a teaching job at the school in town, he said he got it so that’s exciting.” Kat explained, as she piled up her second plate of bacon and eggs of the morning. “I don’t remember the last time he had a stable job.”

Tracey took a sip of her tea, furrowing her brow. “Why didn’t he have a job before?”

Kat stalled. She hadn’t thought up a lie for that question yet. “Uh, you know, he just had to look after me all the time, now I’m here he can get out of the house more.” That sounded convincing. She finished with a smile, before filling her mouth with food.

Tracey nodded, putting down her mug and going back to her toast. She seemed to buy the lie. Kat was only mildly concerned by how naturally the deception came to her but, then again, she supposed she had been sorted into Slytherin.

“Kat?”

A nervous but familiar voice spoke her name from behind where she sat. Neville.

“I know you don’t really want to talk to me anymore but –“

“I never said that.” Kat interrupted him, turning around to face Neville, who was holding his arm awkwardly. She could hear the Slytherin boys laughing behind her. She ignored it.

Neville looked a little shocked that she had spoken over him, but swallowed and stood a little straighter, dropping his arms to his side. “Well, you were ignoring me so I just assumed that I’d done something wrong.”

Kat felt a pang of guilt in her chest, and thought back to her dad’s letter. “It wasn’t you, I just thought you wouldn’t want to be seen with a Slytherin, you know?”

Neville blinked. “What?”

“Well, you’re a Gryffindor, you’re hanging out with Harry Potter.” Kat looked down at her hands in her lap, picking at the skin around her nails. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but she was jealous – not of Neville getting to spend time with a celebrity, but of Potter getting so much time with Neville. Why would he ever want to hang out with Kat now he could chat with him?

Neville shook his head. “Harry’s not interested in me, and besides, I can have more than one friend. I don’t care that you’re in Slytherin, you’re still the same person you were before.” He reached out and poked her on the shoulder with a shaky finger, and Kat found herself smiling, looking up from her lap to meet his gaze. She had to admit she had missed him.

“I’m sorry, I was really rude.” She apologised. “Would you like to hang out after lessons today?” 

Neville nodded enthusiastically. “Of course! You can come up to Gryffindor Tower, it’s really nice up there.” 

“Oh, I don’t know...” Despite what Remus had said about the common room being welcoming, Kat wasn’t sure if that really extended to people in her house, and she didn’t really want a load of older Gryffindors to have a go at her. “Are you sure they won’t mind if I go in?”

Neville shook his head again, clearly very passionate about this idea. “No they won’t at all, people are always bringing their friends around.”

Kat nodded. She was still unsure, but if Neville thought it would be okay, she would try. Tracey nudged Kat in the ribs and Kat realised that she had been very rude in not introducing her friends. She indicated to Tracey with a hand. 

“This is my friend, Tracey.” Neville gave a shy wave. Kat smiled widely. “Tracey, this is Neville – I've known him for  _ ages _ .”

Tracey held her hand out and she and Neville shook hands. There was another cackle from Malfoy’s direction, and Kat pressed her lips together defiantly. Neville caught her eye and shook his head minutely. Kat blew air out of her nose, and closed her eyes for a few moments. She knew Neville didn’t want her to intervene but she really couldn’t stand the fact that they were clearly making fun of Neville right in front of his face.

She shot Neville an apologetic look, before getting up out of her seat. Thankfully they were down by the end of the table, and it did not take her long to march around to where Malfoy was sat and promptly dunk his head in his cereal.

Malfoy swore loudly, shaking his head so that milk splashed all over Kat, Crabbe and  Goyle , and whirled around in his seat o face her, his face thunderous. Kat smiled at him sweetly.

“How  _ dare  _ you touch me?” Malfoy was furious. Kat was trying very hard not to laugh, he  _ did _ look hilarious, his hair hanging limply over his eyes, dripping milk down his cheeks like tears. Tracey clearly couldn’t contain it, and was already screaming with laughter on the opposite side of the table.

Kat put her hands on her hips, glaring down at Malfoy where he sat seething. “ _ Don’t _ talk shit about my friends.”

Crabbe and  Goyle stood up, pushing up their sleeves as if they were ready to start a fight, like they had been employed as Malfoy’s personal bodyguards. Kat raised an eyebrow – were they going to beat her up? In the middle of breakfast? Kat was feeling brave. She rolled up her own robe sleeves and stood her ground, absolutely ready to give as good as she got.

“Would someone care to tell me  _ what _ is going on here?”

Severus Snape, the head of Slytherin house and their potions professor, had sidled up behind them, and was watching carefully with a stern eye, his arms crossed. Snape had a very clear bias toward Slytherin in their lessons, but that seemingly did not expend to Kat. He had been horrible to her, but nowhere near as horrible as he had been to Neville. Kat glanced up to her friend on the opposite side of the table, who was stood frozen, like a deer in car headlights.

Malfoy was out of his seat and speaking immediately, telling Snape in a whiny voice that Kat had shoved his head in his cereal completely unprovoked, just to make fun of him. Kat pursed her lips, knowing there was no point arguing. Snape would believe anything Malfoy said – or, at least, Malfoy’s story would be the one that Snape accepted.

“Miss  _ Lupin _ ,” he said her name with clear distaste, “would you care to tell me why you thought it appropriate to attack Mr Malfoy in the middle of his breakfast? Or are you just as much an insufferable attention-seeker as your father?”

Kat was taken aback. What did Snape know about her dad? Remus had always been shy as far as she knew, what he was saying almost didn’t compute in her brain. Her mouth hung open for a few moments, and Kat was unsure of how she was supposed to respond. Snape did not even give her a chance.

“Detention, Lupin. Cleaning cauldrons in the dungeons with me after dinner.” Snape looked at her with such intense disgust that Kat had to look away, looking down at her feet. He took his wand out of his robes and waved it in Malfoy’s direction. The milk disappeared immediately and his hair and face were dry in an instant. Snape stalked away without another word.

Malfoy, who was now stood next to Kat, whipped around to her and grabbed a hold of her by the collar, whispering menacingly, his face only a few inches from hers. “I’ll get you back for this, Lupin, watch your back.”

He dropped her robes and gestured to Crabbe and  Goyle to follow him, before storming out of the hall, Kat following him with narrowed eyes. Let him  _ try _ and get her back, he was nothing but a spoiled, skinny rich boy. It wasn’t as if Kat had never been in a fight before at school.

She was disappointed that she had gotten her first detention, though. Again, it wasn’t as if she had never had a detention before at primary school, but she had at least been hoping to get through one full week of classes without letting her temper get the better of her. Still, if anything was worth getting a detention for, it was Neville. She looked back over to him and he was staring at her, his face bright red. Tracey was sat with her lips pressed together and her eyebrows raised, clearly still holding back her laughter. 

“Sorry,” Kat mumbled, heading back around to join her friends sheepishly, “he made me angry. I probably embarrassed you.” She addressed this last part to Neville, who shrugged.

“It’s fine.” He did not seem sure that it was fine, but Kat did not want to push it, seeing as she still felt that their friendship was on fragile footing. She didn’t want her invitation to the Gryffindor common room to be retracted just as soon as she had gotten it.

Tracey snorted loudly, apparently unable to hold back anymore. She threw her head back, her dark hair bouncing around. “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen! Did you see when the milk was dripping off of his nose?”

Kat found herself smirking, remembering the image, but did not want to laugh in case Neville was still upset. To her surprise, the boy seemed to find it just as amusing as Tracey did, and began chuckling, though it still held a note of nervous energy. Kat took this as permission, and finally allowed herself to dissolve into a fit of giggles. The three of them were laughing so loudly that the students sat around them at the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables were looking at them  quizzically , wondering what on earth had gotten into the first-years so early on in the day.

Tracey wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, finally steadying herself enough to be able to address the others.

“Has Kat always been like this?” She asked Neville, a twinkle in her eye.

Neville looked over at Kat, a knowing glint in his eye. “Put it this way, her dad is going to be so proud when he hears about this.”

The Gryffindor common room was much nicer than the Slytherin one, Kat had decided upon entering. There were big squashy armchairs and sofas littered across the circular room, and desks scattered around for students to work. The light in the room was warm and golden, unlike the cold green lanterns that hung from the cavernous ceiling in the dungeons. Kat felt another pang in her chest. She really  _ did _ feel at home in here.

There had only been a few comments about her house, and mainly from the other first-years. Neville and Kat had kept mostly to themselves, taking a sofa on the opposite side of the room to the roaring fireplace where most of the students congregated, deciding to spend the afternoon practicing Charms, as Neville was going to have his first practical lesson with the Gryffindors the next day. He was hopeless, but Kat enjoyed the attention from the other Gryffindors she got when she levitated Trevor, Neville’s toad, from one sofa to another. 

She had briefly met the Weasley boy that Remus had mentioned in his letter, who had given her a strange look after noticing the colour of her tie. He had not been  _ rude _ , per-say, but had clearly not been happy about her invading their common room. Harry Potter had been with him, but had not said much, only looked at her curiously. She had attempted an introduction, but Ron had soon hurried him away to their dormitory as if he was afraid of Harry making any more friends, especially if they were in Slytherin. Hermione, the girl from the train, had been much nicer, and seemed keen to ask Kat questions about the levitating charm for  _ hours,  _ though Kat really only wanted to talk to Neville. 

She sat with Tracey and Millie at dinner as was becoming routine, chatting idly about music. Millie had not heard of any of the muggle bands and singers that Kat and Tracey enthused over, and did not seem very open to listening to their music in the dormitory, electing instead to try to muscle herself into Pansy and Daphne’s room most evenings. Pansy still seemed very opposed to it, but Daphne was welcoming. She had even given Kat a few smiles across the hallway. In exchange to Kat and Tracey ‘educating’ her on 70s and 80s rock ‘n’ roll and disco, Millie had spent hours enthusing about Myron Wagtail, the frontman of the wizard band The Weird Sisters. She had played some of their music on her magical radio one evening and Kat had to admit that they were good.

Detention with Snape was just as Kat had expected: absolutely miserable. Snape set her to work scrubbing the school’s cauldrons - the ones that people like her, who couldn’t afford their own cauldrons, had to use. They were ancient, and most had a dried-up layer of god knows how many potions crusting the bottom, which Kat had been told she had to remove without any magic, as if she had learned any cleaning spells by the third day of school. Snape skulked by his desk in the corner of the classroom the whole time, so she couldn’t even sing to herself to pass the time.

Two hours later, Kat’s arms were covered in dark sludge that was tingling slightly, but the cauldrons were shining and she presented her work to Snape proudly. If he was happy with her job, he did not show it. He ran a finger across the bottom of one of the cauldrons and rubbed it against his thumb as if checking for dust, glaring at her all the while. He clearly could not find anything wrong with her job, but did not acknowledge it, only looked down his nose at her.

“Very well, Miss Lupin, you may go. As much as I dislike taking points from my own house, 5 points from Slytherin for your actions at breakfast.” He sneered. 

Kat nodded but did not speak, picking up her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder before hurrying away towards the door. Before she could leave, however, Snape called over to her. 

“You should learn how to keep your temper under control,  _ Lupin _ . I’m sure your father would be able to help you with that.”

She froze, her hand outstretched towards the door. Did Snape  _ know _ ? He couldn’t, could he? Kat didn’t think that anyone knew, apart from Dumbledore and the  Longbottoms . If he did know then she thought that must be dangerous – he could tell anyone. He could tell the Ministry of Magic and force her dad to sign the register. She felt her heart speed up, anger rising in her chest. She wanted to turn around and scream at Snape, tell him that he knew  _ nothing _ about her dad, that he was a good, kind man no matter what people said about people like him. She knew that she couldn’t, however. For one, she had only just finished detention, and she didn’t want to be forced to clean all those cauldrons again. She also did not know that he knew anything for sure, and flying off the handle would only further expose Remus. 

No. She had to stay calm.

Kat closed her eyes and counted to ten in her head, taking a deep breath. She reached out and pulled open the door, and only closed it behind her a with a  _ little _ more force than she normally would.

* * *

Thursday, 12 th September, 1991

Hermione Granger was clearly absolutely shitting herself about their first flying class, which was to be happening at the end of lessons that day. She was firing flying tips at anyone who would listen to her, launching an attack of boring nonsense at anyone who dared sit close enough to her at breakfast. Kat was starting to regret agreeing to sitting with Neville that week, the girl really was insufferable, but the rest of the first-years seemed okay, and had been pretty welcoming ever since they seemed to  realise she wouldn’t be disappearing anytime soon.

A notice had appeared on the Slytherin bulletin board at the beginning of the week, stating that broomstick lessons would begin on Thursday and that they would be held with the Gryffindors. Kat was happy, at least, that she would get to hang out with both of her friends at the same time. The Gryffindors did not seem as enthusiastic.

“Oh, shut up, Hermione,” Ron was whinging, his fork full of bacon, “flying isn’t they type of thing you can learn from a book. You’ve got to practice – did I ever tell you all about when I almost hit -”

“Yes.” Seamus Finnigan, one of the other first-year Gryffindor boys, interrupted him flatly. “You’ve told that story a hundred times in the last week, Weasley.”

They all laughed, leaving both Ron and Hermione sulking; Ron going back to his bacon and Hermione back to her enormous pile of notes. Harry, who was sat between Ron and Hermione awkwardly, was eyeing the notes nervously. He clearly wasn’t feeling confident about that afternoon either, but was trying not to show it. 

“I don’t know why we have to learn with the Slytherins,” Dean Thomas, the last of the male first-years said, throwing a quick aside to Kat, “no offense. I just wish we could do it on our own. I just  _ know _ Malfoy’s going to take the piss when I can’t get more than a foot off the ground.”

Neville looked pale, and nodded quickly, looking down at his hands. Kat nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “If Malfoy says anything to any of  you, I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”

Ron scoffed loudly. “ Malfoy’s had so many pieces of your mind already he should be doing your homework.” He shovelled scrambled eggs into his mouth, and then spoke with his mouth full. “’Thought you lot were on the same side?”

Kat laughed darkly. “As if. He hates me because I’m a ‘filthy half-blood'” She made quotation marks with her fingers. “He’s a snob anyway, I’d never be friends with a rich boy like him.”

She had already received five detentions in less than a week for fighting with the other Slytherins. It wasn’t completely unlike her to throw a punch, but it certainly had become a more frequent occurrence since coming to Hogwarts. She felt like an outsider here, and it didn’t help that the Slytherins treated her like shit.

Ron nodded approvingly, but did not speak any further. Maybe Remus had been right: maybe they would get on. 

Kat reached over to grab a second croissant and a pot of marmalade. She still couldn’t get over just how much food there was, and the fact that she could eat as much as she liked with no consequences. She went about spreading the jam on her pastry, before addressing Harry. “’You alright, mate?”

Harry’s head snapped up from Hermione’s notes quickly, not expecting to be addressed by anyone, especially Kat. They had not really spoken on the occasions that Kat had frequented the Gryffindor common room or dinner table, only exchanged a few words or quips, but Kat figured that they would probably get on. He had always laughed at her jokes. Plus, making friends with Harry Potter was sure to infuriate Malfoy – Ron had told them how he had tried to muscle in on harry on the train but had been rejected. 

Harry nodded quietly, and mumbled something about not really being hungry. Kat attempted a smile, which he returned gratefully.

Their silent conversation was interrupted swiftly by the arrival of the post. Two owls dropped down in front of Kat and Neville, the same battered grey which always delivered her letters from Remus, and an elegant barn owl. The barn owl dropped a small, round parcel in front of Neville, and a note. He ripped open the envelope and Kat saw his eyes scanning the parchment quickly and then widening. The expression of fear on his face was gone in an instant, replaced with a smile so wide it looked as if it would break his face in two.

He ripped open the package eagerly and held up the small, glass orb for them all to see. “It’s a  Remembrall ! Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it like this and if it turns red – oh...” He trailed off, his face falling as the white smoke encased in the ball turned a bright red. “... You’ve forgotten something.”

Neville frowned, his brow furrowing, as he tried to remember what he had forgotten. Kat patted his arm sympathetically – she had already noticed that he had forgotten his robes that morning, only coming down for breakfast in his uniform, but had not wanted to mention it in front of all his friends and embarrass him. 

“I can’t remember what I’ve forgotten.” He murmured, as the rest of the Gryffindors went back to their breakfast. Neville was still holding the  Remembrall aloft as he and Kat whispered, Kat going through a checklist of things he might not have put in his bag and Neville nodding or shaking his head at each. Maybe it was mean of her, but she did think it was a little funny, and she knew that Neville would laugh when she got to the end of her list and mentioned his robes.

Before they could get that far, a hand swooped out and snatched the  Remembrall from Neville’s grasp. Malfoy was stood behind them, clearly making his way over to the Slytherin table for breakfast. 

Kat was on her feet before Malfoy even had a chance to speak, and so, much to Kat’s surprise, were Harry and Ron. They seemed to hate Malfoy just as much as she did. Maybe they could bond over beating him up.

They would never get the chance, however, as Professor McGonagall appeared behind Malfoy almost immediately. She looked down at them all, her eyes stern.

“What’s going on?”

Neville squirmed under McGonagall’s gaze, his voice a mumble. “ Malfoy’s got my  Remembrall , Professor.”

Malfoy pulled a face and dropped the glass ball back onto the table instantly, just as McGonagall’s eyes reached him. Kat sat down, watching the Slytherin boy carefully, making sure that he knew that she was willing to fight him at literally any moment for Neville. Malfoy held her gaze for a few seconds, but only gave a curt nod under the watchful eye of the teacher.

“Just looking,” he said, before stalking off with his bodyguards, Crabbe and  Goyle , in tow.

Kat watched him go, glaring after him, before turning back around to the group. Ron was already complaining loudly, he and Harry now back down in their seats. McGonagall had, thankfully, left them by the time he started swearing. “What an absolute  _ twat _ .”

Kat nodded in agreement, turning her attention back to her second breakfast but still very much ready to shit-talk. Neville seemed uncomfortable, and snatched his Remembrall back up. He looked as if he was going to put it into his pocket, and the smoke suddenly returned to its original white colour.

“My robes!” Neville exclaimed suddenly, standing up and grabbing his satchel from under the table. He looked down at Kat and gave her an apologetic shrug, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I have to go get them from the dorm, I’ll see you at flying this afternoon?”

“Sure, I might catch you at lunch.” Kat waved after him as he bolted out of the Great Hall, leaving her alone on a table full of Gryffindors.

The first-year boys seemed to notice this too, as four pairs of eyes fell upon her instantly after they watched Neville run away, as if waiting for her to get up and leave. She  thought for a second that she should, and was about to say goodbye and go to find Tracey, but was stopped by one of the boys speaking.

“Have you ever flown before, Kat?”

It was Harry, who was holding his piece of toast away from his face as he spoke, but took a large bite as he waited for her answer, chewing loudly. Kat tried not to look surprised. She thought that might have been the most words she had ever heard him say to her. 

She shook her head. “We live in the middle of Soho so there isn’t anywhere I could  learn. Even if there was, my dad  _ hates _ flying.”

Ron was shovelling bacon in his mouth again. “But your dad’s magic though, right? You said you were a half-blood.”

“Yeah, but we don’t really interact with the wizarding world much. I wasn’t even going to come to Hogwarts until Dumbledore made me.” She shrugged, raising her croissant up to her lips, but she froze when she noticed the way the boys were now looking at her with identical expressions of shock.

It was Harry who eventually broke the silence, his green eyes sparkling. “Dumbledore  _ made _ you?”

Kat hadn’t realised that this would be such a big deal, or she absolutely would not have told anyone. As much as she enjoyed attention, she enjoyed it for her own achievements, and she especially did  _ not  _ like it when it was all because of Dumbledore. She tried to shrug it off, waving a hand and taking a large bite of her pastry, so they would know she was not going to speak again. 

They seemed to realise that she was not going to budge on the subject, because Seamus pressed on the other point of interest. “What’s wrong with the wizarding world anyway?”

Kat swallowed and turned to face them. They really were  _ very _ nosey. “There are quite a lot of things wrong with it, if you ever actually open your eyes.” 

She felt the anger bubbling in her chest, but tried to remember that none of them had any idea what she was talking about. If they really  _ knew _ how the ministry treated people with her dad’s condition, if they knew how hard it had made their lives, then maybe they’d understand why she had no affinity for this place. But they didn’t. The  ministry's treatment of people with lycanthropy had probably never crossed any of their minds.

Kat thought, for a moment, that it probably should never have had to cross hers either.

She pushed the anger down, but no longer felt like sitting with them. She stood up and picked up her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder, before picking up her croissant and leaving the table. She headed back towards the Slytherin table without another word, leaving four very confused looking boys behind her.

“Wait!” 

Kat stopped in her tracks, frowning, and turned back to Harry, who was hurrying to catch up with her. He held out an envelope to her which carried Remus’s untidy handwriting. She had left her letter behind.

“You forgot this.” He smiled at her and Kat took the letter from him gratefully.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He turned and walked back to the table, slipping back onto the bench next to Ron. 

Kat looked down at the envelope in her hands, turning it over and ripping it open where she stood. She had learned very quickly not to open her letters from home around Malfoy lest she fall victim to his gloating, listing the presents and sweets that his parents had posted to him that day. He always ended by asking if her dad had sent  _ her _ any sweets, and the answer was almost always no. She didn’t  _ want _ anything anyway, but Malfoy seemed to think it was hilarious.

Today’s letter was short.

_ Dear Kat, _

_ I think it would be rather hypocritical of me to admonish you for getting detentions! In my first year I don’t think I had a single free evening, I got into so much trouble. That being said, fighting with the other students is definitely not what I expected of you. I, of all people, understand how hard it can be to keep your temper under control, especially when people are picking on you, but it’s always better to go to a teacher. If you don’t feel comfortable with Professor Snape (and I wouldn’t blame you for it), Professor McGonagall was always very kind and understanding when I was at Hogwarts. _

_ Michael asked me about you at work today – it might be nice if you sent him a letter. I can pass one on to him if you send it to me, if you like. I’m glad to hear that you’ve been making new friends – even if they do have terrible taste in music – but  _ _ it _ _ would be a shame to lose your old ones. _

_ Good luck with your flying lesson! I hope it goes better than mine did. _

_ Lots of love, _

_ Dad _

Kat stuffed the letter back in its envelope and slipped it into the pocket of her robes. He was right, of course, it would be a shame for her to lose her muggle friends, but what on earth was she supposed to say to them? She could hardly tell them about her school work. Maybe letting them forget about her was the best thing to do.

It seemed like the muggle world was slipping away from her quicker than she had thought. 

The Slytherins hurried down from the castle to their first flying lesson of the year at the end of the day, still buzzing from their transfiguration lesson on Switching Spells. The September air held a chill, and Kat pulled her robes tighter around her in an effort to try and conserve some heat, to no avail. It wasn’t  unbearable , but she wished that she had put on a jumper before leaving the castle. It was a shame the Slytherin dungeon windows didn’t give you any clue about the weather.

Malfoy was marching ahead of the group, desperate to show off to everyone about his flying skills, finally able to put a demonstration to the boasting that the other students had had to sit through all week. He looked back to the group, smirking at those who were visibly nervous, and zeroing in on Kat.

“Hey, Lupin, if you’re cold you should just ask your dad to buy you a cloak – oh wait.” He laughed cruelly, throwing his head back as the other Slytherins joined in. 

Kat felt Tracey’s arm loop through her own and looked over to a small, apologetic smile. Kat would have bitten back at Malfoy, but she was determined not to get kicked out of flying classes. She  _ needed _ to be good at this. To prove him and the rest of the purebloods wrong.

Kat was going to come top in every class if it killed her.

They reached a long, flat stretch of lawn with  broomsticks laid out on the ground opposite the Forbidden Forest, a dark magical forest that lay at the edge of the school grounds and played host to all sorts of magical creatures. Kat stared into the dark between the trees for a few moments. The other students had said there were werewolves in there, but that couldn’t be true anymore. Perhaps there had been one before, once. 

They waited for Madam Hooch and the Gryffindors to arrive, huddled around in groups. Kat and Tracey stood alone, Millie having successfully muscled in to Pansy and Daphne’s friendship group. Kat supposed that they had both been too afraid to say no to her – Millie was incredibly imposing, and often very rude. Kat was sure that she had heard about her bullying some of the Hufflepuffs last week and losing them house points. Not that Kat could complain about that.

“I’m so excited, I love flying,” Tracey was saying, standing very close to Kat, still hanging off of her arm, “first years don’t get to be on the Quidditch teams, but I’m trying out as soon as I can.”

Kat had only a very vague knowledge of Quidditch, seemingly the  _ only _ wizarding sport. It was played on broomsticks and involved far too many different types of balls and scoring methods for her liking. Kat was not interested in it in the slightest, but she was happy to listen to Tracey talk about it. Her passion was endearing.

“I just hope I’m better than Malfoy,” Kat admitted, as the Gryffindors began to join them on the field, “so I can rub it in his face.”

Tracey screwed up her face. “I’m not sure we get graded on it,” she brightened up, “but I’m sure you could fly rings around him with your eyes closed. He’s all talk, I can tell.” She gave Kat a knowing look, and dropped her arm as Neville hurried over to join them, waving in greeting.

He looked terrified.

“I’m going to make a fool of myself in front of everyone.” He whispered to the girls, almost as soon as he had reached their group. He didn’t even say hello first. He must have been holding in the outburst all afternoon.

Before Kat could respond, Tracey placed a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Neville, there’s no expectation to be the world’s best flier. It’s our first lesson, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you didn’t even get off the ground.”

Neville looked dejected, but attempted a thankful smile to Tracey, who patted his shoulder a few times before stuffing her hands into her pockets. 

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived shortly after. She was short and stocky, with spikey grey hair and eyes like a bird. She stood with her hands on her hips, sweeping her gaze across the students, fixing each one in turn with a steely look. When she spoke, her voice was harsh and brazen, like a bark.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone  stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up!”

There was some shuffling, and the small groups of students that had formed broke apart and fanned out, each standing by one of the sorry-looking school broomsticks. There was a great amount of nervous energy bouncing around the group, some of it excited, but some absolutely terrified. Kat gave a short glance at Neville, who was standing next to her, wringing his hands.

“Stick out your right hand over your broom and say ‘up’!” Madam Hooch instructed. 

The class did as she said, shouting almost in unison. Kat put as much determination into her yell as she could,  urging the broomstick not to embarrass her, to show that she could do it just as well as everyone else.

Her broomstick shot up into her hand with only a second or so’s delay. She looked over at Neville excitedly, proud of herself for getting it on the first try, only to find that his broomstick had not even moved. She looked away quickly, not wanting to make him feel any worse. 

A precursory look around the group showed that Kat was one of only five of the first-years who had managed to get their broom to fly. Malfoy’s had obeyed him, of course, as had a few of the other purebloods’s, and Tracey’s. Surprisingly, Harry was also stood holding his broom, the same as Kat. He caught her eye and nodded. She gave him a small smile. That would  _ really _ piss off Malfoy.

Those who had been successful had a long wait until the rest of the class were ready to move on to the next step in the lesson, but eventually even Neville had managed to get his broomstick to take off. Madam Hooch then showed them all how to mount their brooms, and walked down the line correcting everyone’s grip. Kat had her hands the wrong way around, but once she switched them, she was given an approving nod from Madam Hooch. She looked over to Malfoy to make sure that he had seen it, enjoying being able to gloat. This feeling was increased even  more so when Madam Hooch told Malfoy that his grip was all wrong.

The teacher returned to the front of the group, picking up the whistle that had hung around her neck and holding it up in a gloved hand. 

“Now,” she said, “when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly.” She held the whistle up to her lips. 

Kat gave Neville a glance – he was white as a sheet. 

Madam Hooch continued. “On my whistle – three, two -”

Kat saw Neville kick off from the ground early, jumpy from anxiety. Madam Hooch protested, shouting for him to come back down, but he had already lost control, panic clear in his eyes. He was rising into the air incredibly fast, soaring up until he must have been twenty feet above them. Kat was about to kick off after him so she could go and calm him down, when she saw his sickly white face look down at her and his hands slip from the handle.

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Neville’s face was a perfect o-shaped gasp, and he seemed to fall in slow motion. Kat didn’t know what to do, and she was powerless to try and help. Neville crashed down onto the ground in front of her which a deep thud and a sickening crack that sounded all too familiarly like a bone snapping in two. 

Neville lay face down on the grass. Kat heard him moan, and took comfort in the fact that he, at least, was not dead. 

She felt frozen to the spot, nauseous, and could only watch as Madam Hooch hurried over to the boy, kneeling next to him and muttering. He had a broken wrist, she had said. Kat supposed that it could have been far worse. She only hoped that the matron would be able to fix it as quickly as it had happened.

“None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing,” Madam Hooch announced, having helped Neville to his feet. She fixed them all with another steely look. “You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch’. Come on, dear.” She spoke the last to Neville, who she began to lead away. He was crying, and it broke Kat’s heart.

“Madam Hooch!” It was Tracey who spoke up, from Kat’s opposite side. “I think Kat should go with him.”

Madam Hooch looked over Kat for a moment with her hawk-like eyes, before speaking once more to Tracey. “I am sure Mr Longbottom will be perfectly fine on his own.”

But Neville, it seemed, had other ideas. He took a deep, shaky breath, still crying, before speaking up. “I’d prefer if she came.” His voice was just a squeak, but Madam Hooch nodded.

“Very well, follow me, Miss Lupin.”

Kat arrived back at the Slytherin common room late that evening, having spent the afternoon with Neville in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had healed Neville’s arm in a matter of seconds, but she had concluded that both students were in a great deal of shock, and had insisted that she keep watch on them for a few hours before she let them go.

Madam Pomfrey was a very kind witch, who had a no-nonsense attitude that Kat liked. She had told Kat that she had known her father and treated him when he was at Hogwarts, and had told Kat to remind him that he had promised to write to her when he had left the school, something she made sure to include in the letter that she wrote that night. The matron had brought them sandwiches and pumpkin pasties from the Great Hall for dinner, which they had eaten sitting cross-legged on Neville’s hospital bed while chatting. Neville was mortified, but Kat had reminded him that if anyone said  _ anything _ she would have his back. He looked grateful, if a little concerned.

“Don’t you think you’ve been getting into a lot of fights? You never seemed to before.”

Kat shrugged, chewing on her pumpkin pasty. At primary school they had all been the same. They were all poor, no one had nice clothes or fancy parents who gave them presents. People had picked on her because she was the only Indian kid at the school, but they had stopped once she had shown them that she wouldn’t take it. She had gotten into fights because of that, obviously, but it had been a  good few years since. 

She was just always so  _ angry _ at Hogwarts. 

“I only fight them because they say mean things about us.”

Neville looked at her carefully. “You don’t need to fight people for me.” He looked down at his lap as soon as he had said it, as if he was scared of her reply. They had been friends for years, almost their entire lives; Kat didn’t know why he thought she would ever be angry at what he said.

She considered his words for a moment, however. He was right, she didn’t need to be defending him quite so fiercely. He was a Gryffindor, after all, no matter how cowardly he came across, he must be able to look after himself. She remembered how embarrassed he had looked after that breakfast when she dunked Malfoy’s head in his cereal bowl and felt her stomach drop with shame. She had been making Neville even more of a target by making such a big deal of it. She had been being a bad friend, thinking it was the best thing to do.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

Neville put a shaky hand on her knee. “I know, it’s okay. I just don’t want you to get into trouble, especially with Snape.”

Kat screwed up her face in disgust. “Ugh, I hate him so much. Did I tell you what he said when I had detention last week?”

Neville shook his head, so Kat recited what he had said about her dad and his temper. Neville’s eyebrows knitted themselves together.

“Do you reckon he knows? About your dad, I mean.” His voice was a low whisper, and their heads were close together now.

Kat sighed, chewing her lip. “I don’t know, maybe? But why would he?” She thought back to the letter her dad had sent her that morning. Remus had mentioned Snape, and seemed not to like him. “I think they know each other but I don’t think they get on.”

“What makes you think that?” Neville pushed.

Kat leant back and pulled her letter out of her robe pocket, where it had been since Harry had given it to her that morning. She took out the paper and smoothed it, before passing it to Neville. He scanned it quickly.

“See? Your dad says you should stop fighting too.”

“Shut up – read the bit about Snape.” Kat rolled her eyes and jabbed her finger at the paper.

“’If you don’t feel comfortable with Professor Snape (and I wouldn’t blame you for it) _ ' _ ” Neville recited, under his breath. He looked up at Kat. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Kat chose to address this when she came to write her reply that evening in the common room. There was a desk free at the far corner of the room by the stairs to the girls' dormitories, and she took out her parchment and a quill to scribble her answer, hoping that Malfoy and his friends would leave her alone.

_ Hi Dad, _

_ Flying didn’t go exactly as planned – Neville fell off his broom and broke his wrist so I didn’t actually get to leave the ground! We spent the afternoon in the hospital wing instead. He is fine, don’t worry, Madam Pomfrey fixed his arm instantly. She told me to say hello to you and tell you off for not writing when you promised you would, by the way, so this is that. I hope I get a chance to actually fly next week, I think I might be okay at it. As long as I’m better than Malfoy I’ll be happy – he's been bragging  _ all week _ about how good he is. _

_ I will try my best to not get into fights anymore. I just wish people would stop being mean to me about my clothes. Please don’t think it’s your fault, it’s just them being dickheads. I think Professor McGonagall likes me because I always answer questions in Transfiguration so I will talk to her if I need to. Professor Snape  _ hates _ me. He said something weird to me during detention once, and in your letter yesterday you mentioned him so I was wondering if you knew each other? Did you used to be friends? _

_ I will think about writing Michael a letter but I don’t know what I’d say. Where does he even think I am? I never said what school I was going to. Maybe it’s best I just forget about my muggle life, like Dumbledore wanted. Did you manage to get me that workbook on fractions, by the way? _

_ Also, _ _ I think you are wrong about ABBA, they are great. _

_ Love you, _

_ Kat _

She still had time to get up to the owlery and back before curfew, so she rolled up the letter and tied it with string, slipping it into her robes pocket and heading back out of the concealed door. The castle was quiet in the evenings, only a few students hurrying out of the library or back from a stroll in the grounds. Kat liked it, preferring not to have to push through the crowds. It took her nearly twenty minutes to get to the owlery, and found it completely empty.

She found a school owl that looked friendly and tied the letter to its leg, before patting it on the head gently. She would love to have her own owl, but she knew that they were expensive. Maybe she could get a summer job when she was older and save up. She allowed the owl to hop up onto her sleeve and took it over to the window, giving it one last head scratch before letting it go and watching it fly out over the lake.

“Letting Longbottom’s grandmother know he’s dead, are you?”

Kat was pulled away from her thoughts abruptly, whirling around to see Malfoy stood next to a grand looking screech owl, stroking the top of its head gently. He was sneering at her, and she felt the anger bubble rising. She forced it back down. She had just promised to try to fight less, after all.

She painted on a smile. “Just sending a letter to my dad, he writes to me twice a week. Neville is fine, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.” Draco replied curtly.

Kat pressed on. “Are you sending a letter?” 

Malfoy’s glare slipped for a second. He seemed surprised that she was actually talking to him. The lapse did not last long, however. “To my mother. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, I  suppose .”

Anger again. Kat took a deep breath. She would not fight him, but maybe she could be a little bit rude. “You know,  _ Malfoy _ , you don’t actually have to be such an insufferable wanker all the time. If you didn’t want people to like you, I’m sure your basic personality would be enough without all the insults.”

Malfoy straightened up a little. This seemed to be more like he expected. “Why would I want  _ you _ to like me,  _ half-blood _ ?”

He seemed to be squaring up for a fight, and though Kat would love nothing more than to punch him right in his pinched face, she held herself back. She couldn’t fall back on her promise before her dad had even received her letter.

“It’s okay, Draco, I know you’re only jealous.”

“ _ Jealous _ ?” He was rolling up his sleeves now, stepping towards Kat.

“Yeah,” Kat continued with a casual air. She would not let him intimidate her. “Because I’m better at all our classes,  _ and _ famous Harry Potter doesn’t want to know you, but he likes me.”

Draco looked furious, but Kat only felt triumphant. She had succeeded in riling him up just as much as he had her in the past. It was very satisfying; she could see why he kept doing it. She smiled politely to him, but held up her hands in front of her.

“I’m not going to fight you, Draco, unless you want us to lose any  _ more _ points for Slytherin. You probably want to send that letter off to your mum, don’t you? I’m sure she’d be upset if she didn’t get it tonight.” She slipped past him, heading for the exit, very pleased with herself. “But what would I know about that, eh?”


End file.
